


baby you deserve a treat

by burakinnon



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Hockey Players, Fluff, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26183131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burakinnon/pseuds/burakinnon
Summary: “What about you?” An accented deep voice says and Mikko nudges him hard on his shoulder and Nate irritatingly shoves Mikko back and turns to look at the owner of the voice.Oh.Oh no. He’s cute.---Or, Nate gets taken with the tall brunette that mans the ice cream truck at the park he regularly runs at
Relationships: Andre Burakovsky/Nathan MacKinnon
Comments: 8
Kudos: 92





	baby you deserve a treat

**Author's Note:**

> got inspired by that new bl*ckpink song 'ice cream'
> 
> this is the result

“Dude, we only ran for 3 miles and you’re already beat?” 

Mikko moans where he’s sprawled on the grassy floor, shirt damp from sweat and sticking onto his chest, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. “It’s too fucking hot,” he says, an arm slung over his eyes to protect them from the glaring brightness of the sun.

Nate rolls his eyes and nudges Mikko with a foot, looking over him exasperatedly and barely out of breath. “I wanted to run this morning when it was still cool, but your lazy ass was still asleep.”

Mikko sits up and glares at Nate, fanning the front of his shirt in an attempt to cool down. It’s the middle of summer so the heats are unrelenting and vicious and on top of that, it’s 12 PM, when the sun is at its highest. “I’m a bartender! I had to close the bar this morning at 4, Nate.” 

“Excuses, excuses-,” Nate says and was about to chirp Mikko some more until the familiar tune of an ice cream truck breaks out and catches his attention.

“Is that an ice cream truck?” Mikko says excitedly, already on the balls of his feet, head whipping around to search for the source of the music. 

“No, we can’t eat ice cream in the middle of our run,” Nate says reprimandingly but Mikko has already found the ice cream truck parked across the park and starts to head there, completely disregarding Nate. 

“I don’t care, it’s hot as fuck and I’m about to die of a heat stroke. I’m getting ice cream,” Mikko says as he walks away and Nate grumbles in return, muttering something about breaking his diet and trails after Mikko.

There’s already a huge line of kids with their parents clamoring at the eye-sore of an ice cream truck as they wait for their turn, painted in mint with a huge plastic soft serve vanilla ice cream in a pink cone situated above, spinning on top of the truck as it plays that classic ice cream truck music. 

“This is bad for you,” Nate grumbles, glaring at the fake ice cream spinning on top of the truck as Mikko excitedly looks over the crowd of kids and parents to look at the menu. 

“An ice cream once in a while isn’t going to hurt you,” Mikko turns to him, looking like he already has his order in mind. He shrugs. “Plus my fat goes straight to my ass anyway.”

Nate snorts at that, but still doesn’t forgive Mikko for the 15 minute wait they had to stand in for under the unforgiving sun.

“I’d like a medium frozen vanilla yogurt with maraschino cherries and mochi on top, please,” Mikko recites his order and a deep voice responds back. Nate is still looking elsewhere, not really interested in stuffing himself with sugar and empty calories - his cheat days are on Saturdays and it’s only Tuesday. 

“What about you?” An accented deep voice says and Mikko nudges him hard on his shoulder and Nate irritatingly shoves Mikko back and turns to look at the owner of the voice.

Oh.

_Oh no. He’s cute._

The man in front of him has a boyish grin with warm brown eyes and a cute attractive face. He can tell he’s taller than Nate, probably as tall as Mikko. He’s looking expectantly at Nate, arms crossed on the window sill of the ice cream truck as he waits for Nate’s order. 

Nate is just staring at him, committing every feature of the guy in front of him to memory because damn, the guy can totally get it. He squints at the name tag that’s on the guy’s shirt, _Andre_ , it says in a messy handwritten sprawl. 

“Dude, your order,” Mikko nudges him and it breaks Nate out of his reverie and Nate can feel his face flushing. 

He turns to look at the menu and orders the first thing that catches his eyes. “Um, I guess I’ll have a cookie dough frozen yogurt. Small, please,” he says sheepishly and steals another gaze towards _Andre_.

“Alrighty! One medium frozen yogurt with cherries and mochi and a small cookie dough one, right?” Andre smiles at them and Nate stares at the dimpling of his cheeks.

“Yes, that’s right,” Mikko says with amusement in his voice. 

Andre punches their order in an iPad and turns back to them. “That’ll be 8.56!” 

Mikko hands him his credit card, probably because Nate is being useless and is still just staring at Andre’s side profile.

Andre hands Mikko’s order after a while and when Andre hands out Nate’s right after, his frozen yogurt in a mountain of cookie dough pieces, Nate feels a spark of electricity as their hands touch at the action and Nate grumbles a quick flustered thanks.

Mikko and Nate find an empty park bench to eat their yogurts at, Mikko already halfway done with his while Nate is only beginning to dig into his. 

“He’s cute,” Mikko says conversationally and throws Nate an all too knowing look. “Totally your type, too.”

“Shut up,” Nate grumbles and takes a bite of his yogurt, sweetness exploding in his mouth. Nate mourns at the hard work of their run, the effort already gone by one bite of the sweet icy concoction. It’s a good thing he’s teaching a cross fit class later in the evening where he’s sure he’ll be able to burn all the extra calories from this ice cream run.

“You’re blushing,” Mikko points out with a quirk in his lips. “You stared at him for the longest time.”

“Oh my god, _shut the fuck up_ ,” Nate says.

“It’s okay, I don’t think it’s one-sided,” Mikko says and looks down at the paper cup he’s holding then looks at Nate’s. He points at Nate’s yogurt with a plastic spoon. “He filled your cup with toppings while I only got like, 5 mochi and cherries.”

Nate flushes some more and stuffs his face with cookie dough and vanilla soft serve.

* * *

He’s running again around the park the next day with Mikko in tow. It’s not that hot today, it’s a cloudy and windy day. It’s the perfect day for a run. They run laps around the park, the mint ice cream truck is parked at the grassy hill where people usually plan their picnics out. It’s still closed, the ice cream on the roof isn’t spinning and there’s no music. Plus, he hasn’t seen that Andre guy anywhere.

They run another lap and when Nate catches the tune of the truck, he stops running immediately and Mikko almost collides behind him. He turns to look at Mikko, red faced and sweaty. “Want ice cream?”

Mikko furrows his eyebrows then a flash of recognition is seen in his eyes. “You just wanna see that cute ice cream guy again,” he says as a statement.

“Well do you want ice cream or not?”

“Only if you’re paying,” Mikko says but Nate is already walking towards the ice cream truck, on a mission.

There’s only one kid and a parent in front of Nate as he waits patiently for his turn to order, watching Andre in his peripheral vision as he works inside the truck while Nate pretends to look at he menu.

“Oh! It’s you again,” Andre says cheerfully when it’s Nate’s turn and Nate smiles at him. “What would you like to order?

Nate repeats his order from yesterday, also including Mikko’s order and hands out his credit card. He also brought cash this time to leave a hefty tip for Andre.

“You guys run here a lot?” Andre asks as he grabs the paper cups and turns his back to mess with the soft serve machine. Nate can’t help but to stare at his backside. 

“Well, Nate forces me to,” Mikko says. “He’s a personal trainer at the crossfit gym a couple streets away from here,” he adds and Nate steps on Mikko’s foot hard. Mikko yelps in pain.

“What are you doing,” Nate hisses under his breath.

“You idiot, I’m helping you out,” Mikko hisses back.

Andre returns with loaded yogurt cups in front of them and starts scooping the toppings. “Oh yeah?” He runs his eyes over Nate appreciatively and Nate swears he takes a second to look at his arms, “that’s cool,” he says with that perfect smile again and hands out their frozen yogurt.

“Thank you,” Nate says when he gets his, their hands brushing against each other again. 

“Make sure to come back again soon!” Andre says cheerfully at Nate, not even sparing a glance at Mikko. Nate shoves a hand in his pocket where the crumpled twenty dollar bill is at and drops it at the tip jar. 

Andre’s eyebrows shoot up at the gesture and sweetly says, “Thank you, _Nate!_ ”

Nate doesn’t look back at him, a blush forming in his cheeks.

“Interesting,” Mikko says when they’re out of Andre’s earshot, grabbing a bite of his cherry yogurt.

* * *

After Nate’s Thursday afternoon crossfit class, he stops by the park and parks his car at the side of the street just across where the ice cream truck is at. 

He’s walking towards the truck when he notices that the back of the truck is open and sees a pair of slender legs poking out, swinging. He heads towards there instead and peers his head curiously at the opening. 

Andre is sat on the floor of the truck, the front of his white shirt damp with sweat and almost translucent. He’s making his way through a red popsicle, licking and sucking at it while making happy noises as he scrolls through his phone, completely unaware of his surroundings and how he looks right now. 

Nate’s mouth feels dry and he bites his lower lip as he watches Andre dart a tongue out to lick at the popsicle and enveloping the icy treat in his cherry red lips and slides it out, swallowing the melted juice down. Nate follows the line of his throat as it bobs.

It supplies Nate with multiple pornographic images and he bites his lip hard to keep himself from groaning out loud.

“Hi!” Nate forces out when he recovers. “Are you on a break?”

Andre jumps at the sudden greeting, his mouth is tinted red from the popsicle. It’s almost obscene. “Nate! Hey, hold on,” he says as he pockets his phone and makes his way to stand up, wiping his hands on his pants after he tosses the remnants of his popsicle at the trash can inside the truck. “Small frozen yogurt with cookie dough pieces, right?” 

“Yeah,” Nate says absentmindedly as he stares how the damp white shirt sticks to Andre’s body like it’s something painted on him. 

Andre prepares his order and hands it out to Nate, a few moments after. Nate tries to hand him his credit card to pay for it but Andre waves it off with a smile. “On the house.” Nate wants to grab him by the shirt and kiss him.

“Oh, thank you,” Nate says and drops another twenty dollar bill into the tip jar just because. Andre disappears from the side window and his head sticks out at the end of the truck, where he was sitting at. 

“You can sit here with me,” Andre says, almost shy. He chews on his lower lip thoughtfully. “If you want.” 

Nate follows him and finds himself sitting beside Andre as he starts to dig into his yogurt. It’s kinda awkward as silence envelopes them and the only thing they can really hear are the cars driving past the park and the sound of a basketball hitting the ground and cheers from the court a few feet away. 

“The A/C stopped working today,” Andre breaks the silence as he reaches out and points the fan towards where they’re sitting. The cool breeze is welcoming but it also lets Nate catch a whiff of Andre’s cologne and a curl of want settles in the pit of Nate’s stomach. _He smells so good_.

“That sucks,” Nate says uselessly, not really knowing what to say because his brain has stopped working ever since he saw Andre basically deep throating a popsicle. He never thought he would ever wish to be a popsicle so badly before until now.

“Mhmm. You’re alone today, where’s your running buddy at?” Andre says, fanning the front of his shirt and Nate catches a glimpse of his bare chest and Nate has to bite his tongue hard and forces himself to look away.

“Oh, it’s his rest day today. I just got done with teaching a crossfit class.”

Andre hums as they continue their conversation and get to know a little bit of each other. Nate learns Andre just moved to Denver from Washington, D.C, and that he’s Swedish and played hockey during high school like Nate. Nate tells him that he’s from Nova Scotia and other bits and pieces of his life as Andre does the same. 

Andre pauses their conversation in between serving people and next thing Nate knows, it’s already 8 PM and ends up helping Andre close up the truck.

* * *

It becomes a regular thing. Okay, a _daily_ thing. And he wishes he can just ask Andre out so he can stop eating frozen yogurt on a daily basis because his body is begging him to stop. 

“Aren’t you tired of eating frozen yogurt everyday?” Mikko whines after their workout. They’re seated at a parking bench cooling down, the ice cream truck in sight. 

“No,” Nate lies. 

“You just want to flirt with that _Andre_ guy. Just ask him out, dude. It’s obvious he’s into you too,” Mikko says with a sigh but still dutifully follows Nate to the ice cream truck. 

“The usual order?” Andre leans over the opening of the truck, a huge smile plastered on his face. The A/C is working back again and Nate can feel the cool refreshing air that seeps out through the window. 

“You got it,” Nate says with a grin and does his routine of checking Andre’s ass out as he prepares their frozen yogurts. He doesn’t even realize the slip of paper Mikko sneakily slips into the tip jar.

“You boys enjoy,” Andre says as he pushes the desserts through the opening with a soft smile to Nate, ignoring Mikko like usual.

Mikko rolls his eyes. “I’m sure he will,” he mutters as he grabs his frozen yogurt. “Thanks.”

“Thank you, Andre,” Nate says.

“You can just call me Burky. All my friends call me that.” 

“You can call me Nate,” Nate says, unaware how dumb he sounds and Mikko snorts besides him.

Andre furrows his eyebrows. “I already do?” he says, confused. 

Nate finds the expression cute on him and just stands there smiling at Andre like an idiot, who is just smiling back at him with a mirrored look on his face. Mikko pushes Nate lightly. “We’re holding up the line,” he sounds exasperated.

* * *

“So, I slipped your business card in that tip jar,” Mikko says after they’re back in Nate’s car and already finished their treats. Nate turns the ignition of his car on and the car rumbles into life.

“You did _what?!_ ” Nate shouts, wide eyed in shock and dread. 

“Chill out, he’s into you too, trust me,” Mikko waves him off. “I asked him for coffee out for you too. You can thank me later,” he says with a dimpled grin.

“You can walk home,” Nate says, he thinks about if it’s possible to get away with murdering Mikko.

Nate is getting ready for bed around 9 PM, since he has to sleep early for the 6 AM class he’s scheduled to teach on Sundays. He’s already tucked in his bed when his phone buzzes on his end table. He reaches over and swipes to open the message he just got - it’s from an unknown number.

_hi nate! this is burky. i’d love to meet u for coffee! im free tomorrow at 1?_

He blinks at the message multiple times and feels his face flushing. He buries his face against the pillow he’s already hugging, a smile on his face as he’s overwhelmed with giddiness and excitement for what tomorrow may bring. 

He saves the contact number under _🍦 Burky 🍦_ and replies back the details of the coffee shop he knows just a street away from the park while adding,

 _See you then! Looking forward to it :)_

Nate opens another message, looks for Mikko’s name and texts back a quick, _thanks man, youre the best wingman_

 _i told u so,_ Mikko replies back almost instantly.

**Author's Note:**

> [ my tumblr, feel free to leave prompts or say hi ](https://buwakinnon.tumblr.com/)


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